The Concert

5.26.06

There is something about her socks

the little white frills against the tan skin

hovering above the black patent leather straps

like clouds over the horizon

making innocence of licorice strips

The demure closure of knees

which on another stage will open

later to love or lust or both

makes pinnacle of slanted calves

Pointed toe reaches back

to balance bowing arm and practiced fingers

as the music pulls her forward

Her legs poised to launch

will take her places

and the socks will be put away

a mere memory of her first melody